You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive II
by Elphaba-Rose
Summary: Ok, so it's not a sequel like the title says, but it's an alternative ending. You don't have to have read the original, this can kinda stand on its own. They are forgiven and they are loved.


A.N: Ok, so I was rereading You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive, and I realised I could have done things differently. Like, a lot of you said you wished there'd been a brotherly moment instead of a fatherly moment at the end, and I realised, yeah, that would work so much better. But that's not what this is. What this is, my fellow crazed TMNT fans, is an alternative ending. Yup, alternative. And it's a tragedy, so I suggest not reading it if you don't like character deaths, like me. I know, if I don't like character deaths, why am I writing one? I'm weird. Go figure. But anywayz, I hope you enjoy, it picks off at the end of Leo and Shredder's battle, after he's killed him.

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, sadly. If I did, do you even think you'd ever see Leo again? You got it, dumb question.

You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive: Alternative Ending

The shadow thrashed and sloshed in the liquid. The diluted purply red juices splattered up his tired and aching legs as they buckled with the fatigue. He felt sick and dizzy, pretty soon, something other than blood and rain was going to swamp the floor, vomit was going to join them too.

He coughed, his tight chest constricting, making it harder for him to breathe. He blinked the black spots from his eyes but they were as stubborn as he was. His head spun but he tried to fight off the agony like he'd done so many times before, but he was far too weak.

He glared at the corpse on the floor, they were as freezing as each other, one dead, and the other simply cold-blooded. The pounding rain helped not, it was like a shower of ice in the old night. For the first time in his life, he envied the body on the floor. For the first time since he was born, Leonardo envied Oroku Saki.

Leo felt the vomit snaking its way up his throat, a sick volcanic eruption. There were three smells he hated most, vomit, blood and alcohol. All he needed now was the alcohol and he'd have no guts left. His throat was burning and he could take it no longer.

He hardly had anything left in his stomach, save for butterflies. He was nervous, he was scared. Although he felt grateful and even proud and honourable. He'd die with the honour he'd strived for since he'd been told he would be leader aged ten, seven years ago.

He was thankful for the numbness, it was like anaesthetic. Looking at the cuts on his forearms, the hole in his side and the slashes on his bicep, he knew he should be in a great deal of pain right now. But he wasn't. He was in far too much pain emotionally, to be bothered by physical hindrances.

Yet he knew it was his entire fault. Raphael had always called him perfect, but he was far from it. How could he be perfect if his brothers got hurt? How could he be perfect if he disappointed his father? How could he be perfect if he made his brothers hate him? He was anything but perfect. And that's what had condemned him.

He blinked, becoming rather drowsy. He smiled. Not long now. He reached forwards and fingered the blade of one of his katanas. They were the only things, if they had brains, who could understand him. They were weapons, just like him. They were used to protect people, just like him. They had no life, only a wielder, just like him.

He caught sight of what used to be his Shell Cell, before his foot decided it would look better in a gazillion pieces. Even if he wanted to ring his brothers he couldn't now. Although a part of him never wanted to see them again, it was an extremely small one. He wanted to apologise, he wanted to let them know he loved them, despite whether the feeling was mutual or not.

He almost wished he was going to live, he'd regret not seeing some things, like their eighteenth birthdays, the day they got married, had kids, if that was ever going to happen. But secretly, he doubted it. As great as his brothers were, what human was going to see past their exterior and fall madly in love with them?

But he knew it would be better if he died. Not only would he be out of their hair (Even though they had none), he would escape the pain and pressure and grief. Yes, he knew that was selfish, but he was still 'human', his emotions hadn't been totally quashed. They no longer needed him, Raphael proved that earlier.

But he would be able to watch them from afar. When one of them had the sudden urge to step backwards, he would be the one to pull them, therefore avoiding the hidden shuriken whizzing through the air. Whenever one of them was having trouble sleeping, he would be there to sit on their bed and soothe them to sleep without a word. He would always be there, whether they liked it or not. He was a brother before he was a ninja and that would never change.

He wondered where he would be this time tomorrow. Would he still be on that damned building, on his knees, still bleeding scarlet blood, sitting in purple juices splattered by the rain? Would he be in some stereotyped heaven, dressed in a long, flowing, snow white gown, with huge feathery wings and a golden halo, bouncing among fluffy clouds? Would he be reborn as some handsome actor in England or something just as random? He had no idea where he would be; he just hoped he'd be anywhere but where he was now.

The rain was starting to chill him now, he'd always been sensitive to the cold after the Foot ambushed him when he was fifteen and had to recover up in the freezing mountains. He began to shiver, wondering how much longer he'd have to wait. He was usually pretty patient, but not tonight.

The drizzle hid the thumping footsteps until they were right upon him. He almost expected them to be Foot ninjas but was exceptionally surprised to see a familiar green face swimming before him. He didn't want to see that face anymore; he didn't want to see his brother.

Would you want to see your brother after he'd told you to get yourself killed? Leo reached out blindly, his sight blurring and merging the green with the red with the chocolate. Everything roared in his ears, he couldn't make out a word he or his brother was saying. He knew what Raphael's expression meant though. Anger, regret, disappointment, shame. All because of Leo.

"You…you got your wish Raph," He vaguely heard himself splutter, hanging on tight to his brother's wrist as if his life depended on it. He would not let go, he wanted to redeem himself, he wanted to show Raphael he could be a good brother if he tried.

He blinked rapidly, black dots spinning and twirling. Raph's face whirled like a Catherine wheel, just as furiously. He could feel the numbness tingling up his toes to his core. He coughed, and something warm and wet and sticky dribbled down his chin. He smiled. Not long now.

Images replayed in his head over and over again. One minute he was five years old, playing Snakes and Ladders with his brothers, joyous and carefree. Next he was ten, having a water fight with them, laughing and squealing. He was twelve, curled up on his father's lap and reading a book out loud, content and peaceful. Then he grew up.

He was fourteen, training to the point of physical exhaustion, tired and frustrated. He was fifteen, writhing in pain, ashamed and in agony. He was sixteen, shunned aside from the video game marathon, alone and hurt. He was seventeen, pelting through the sewers, distressed and suicidal.

His eyelids grew as heavy as a ton of bricks, shutters being closed over tired sapphire eyes. His breathing was becoming less and less laboured, filling and leaving his lungs in deep breezes. His body was blissfully numb, unable to feel his brother's panicked movements and the rain's harsh sting, not to mention the burning wounds.

He managed to rasp out final words that were almost inaudible underneath the rain and his brothers' frightened babbling. He meant them, from the very bottom of his heart. After everything that had happened, they were still his brothers, and they still meant the world to him, and always would do.

"You are forgiven, you are loved,"

His heart beat slower and slower in his chest, its passion for life fading and fading. His eyes fluttered closed and would not reopen. His mind filtered everything out and stayed in a state of calm nothingness. As one, everything, his heart, his brain, his soul, shut down and gave in to the death that would snatch us all in the end.

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"You still out here bro?" A quiet, sympathetic voice drifted through the air.

Raphael turned his head slightly to acknowledge his two younger brothers. He gave a small nod then returned to the horizon. He felt them sit either side of him and snake an arm each around his shoulders. He let a tiny sigh escape his lips, pulled his knees further into his plastron, and rested his head upon his knees.

The passionate, fiery sunset set the sky ablaze with scarlet and pink and orange hues. The sun was dying upon Manhattan, preparing for the moon's reign for a few hours. The dull grey skyscrapers were afire with the blistering lights, bathing everything in its radiance. The three of them watched in silence.

"It's felt like ten years, let alone one," Raphael breathed out. He could feel Michelangelo's tears sliding down his arm where his baby brother leaned upon him for hope.

"He's watching us though, I can feel it," Donatello murmured, smiling slightly. Raphael nodded his agreement and Michelangelo's lips graced a smile through his tears.

"'S been so hard, I want him back," He whispered sorrowfully, his emerald eyes twinkling in the dazzling light.

"We all want him back," Donatello added quietly.

"Sometimes I wonder if he's really gone at all, sometimes I come home, and I feel as if he's silently lecturin' me for stayin' out so late, sometimes I hear him reprimand me for swearin', and sometimes, I hear him tellin' me it's ok to cry when I dream about him," Raphael admitted, his own chocolate eyes becoming glossy.

"He's gone physically Raph, but he's still with us in our hearts," Donatello corrected, not bothering to hide the teardrops of saltwater streaming from his hazel pools and down his cheeks.

"After all…" Mike gave a weak grin. "We are forgiven, and we are loved,"

Watching from afar, the mutant turtle sporting a blue bandana and twin katanas smiled widely to himself. He'd guided them for a year, and there was much more to come. He'd loved them for eighteen years, and that would last for eternity.

"You are most definitely loved,"

The End

A.N: Wow, sorry it's short. I just wanted to try a different ending with a brotherly moment. So what did you all think? It's kinda sappy, heh, but I just love sap lol. Anywayz, my head's hurting and I'm still ill so I'll finish it here guys. Love you all muchly!


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